


Dream and Reality

by andynebulae



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Consensual Non-Consent, Dom/sub Undertones, Finger Sucking, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Responsible Submission, Safewords, Sub Maxwell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 10:01:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23849380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andynebulae/pseuds/andynebulae
Summary: Maxwell has a strange dream about Wilson, and don't know how to react to this new found attraction.
Relationships: Maxwell & Wilson (Don't Starve), Maxwell/Wilson (Don't Starve), William Carter/Wilson (Don't Starve)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 80





	Dream and Reality

**Author's Note:**

> I promisse I'm going to finish my other fics. I just really needed some sub Maxwell.

When Maxwell came back to his senses, he was in a soft bed. A nice change, if he could say something about it. Sleeping in tents got old really fast. Except that his wrists were tied to the bed, forcing his hands to be above his head, slightly apart.

In the moments Maxwell tried to make sense of what was happening, he noted an array of things. His legs weren’t tied, he had his clothes on, with his buttoned shirt with a couple top buttons off, circular glasses adorned his face and more importantly: Wilson was there. Not his normal Wilson, no, it was a Wilson touched by them, a king of this damned world. It fit, as Maxwell could tell himself looked like his old self, like William Carter.

“Finally awake, uh?” Wilson mused, a smile on his pale face. Very handsome on his black suit.

Wilson’s claws, as black as his clothes, casually touched the bed. He approached Maxwell, kneelling in the bed, between Maxwell’s legs. He put on of his clawed hands on the former king’s side, pulling him closer.

“W-Wilson! What are you doing?!” Maxwell cried, trying to pull away. Wilson’s iron grip maintaining the man in place.

“Nothing you don’t want, bunny,” Wilson said with silky voice. His free hand going to Maxwell’s shirt, undoing button by button. One button. Two, three, four. No buttons left, the tall man’s chest all exposed. Wilson hummed, as if appreciating his work.

One of Wilson’s claws went to Maxwell’s chest, going slowly down, sending shivers down the former king’s spine, claw only stopping at his pants. “Wilson,” Maxwell muttered, almost a moan. The scientist started to pull down Maxwell’s pants, claws scratching his sides as Wilson did it. “W-wait, we shouldn’t…!”

Wilson ignored Maxwell, finishing to take off his pants and underwear. Before the tall man could do anything, he felt ropes being tied to his legs, holding them apart, fully exposed for Wilson. “That’s better,” the scientist purred, one of his clawed fingers sliding inside Maxwell’s asshole.

It hurt. A lot. As Wilson’s finger slid in and out, with no lube to help, the tall man felt his ass on fire, hot and sore. “S-stop, please!”

Surprisingly, Wilson stopped. But only for the time it took to slap Maxwell’s face. “You don’t order here.” The former king barely focused on what was said, feeling his face hot with shame, as his penis reacted, fully erect. “Oh my, I should have know you would enjoy that.” The scientist smiled broadly, resuming his activity. Wilson was surly, this time two fingers opening Maxwell, fast and harsh.

Another pause, and the tall man almost expected another slap, feeling his penis eager for more. Instead, Wilson went back to the sore asshole, finally some lube coating his fingers. Maxwell muffled moans, still burning hot with shame at how much he was enjoying everything.

Soon, the scientist adjusted Maxwell’s leg: bent, exposing better what Wilson wanted. The short man pulled down his pants, member already erect. He poured lube all over his penis, and slowly made way inside the former king.

Maxwell gasped, and tried to force himself away from the penis invading him. Another slap made him stop, moaning loudly. “If you want me to hit you so badly, you only have to ask, bunny.” Not waiting for a reply, Wilson gripped Maxwell’s chest, his mouth licking and biting the exposed nipple. And he thrust, rough and fast, and still hitting all the right places. The tall man could barely react, only moaning, and slowly thrusting back.

It didn’t take long for Maxwell to come, making a mess of his abdomen. Not long after, Wilson came, finally exiting the king’s sore hole. The scientist rested his hand on Maxwell’s abdomen, fingers suddenly full of sperm. The tall man, hands finally freed, pulled Wilson’s hand to his mouth. He carefully licked each of the scientist’s fingers, cleaning them up. As they looked at each other, Wilson’s mouth in a seducing smile, everything went dark.

Maxwell woke up. His face heated up, a bright red blush on his face. What was that even about? A wet dream with Wilson? Not that he hadn’t noticed the scientist. He had, many times. Wilson was handsome, and gentle, and kind. And everything good that Maxwell could never be. The scientist deserved better than him.

He was late for breakfast. He had to take care of the mess on his pants. And he had to gather up courage to face Wilson again. He never thought he would be into someone forcing himself into him, but the thought still made his insides tingle and his face flush.

Maxwell took a deep breath and made his way to the crock pot. He shoved food on his mouth, thankful to not be faced with Wilson, at least not yet.

“Maxwell!” The scientist called, jogging in Maxwell’s direction. “Could you help me with some mining? I need more gold, and-”

“Yeah, yeah, just let me finish eating,” the tall man said surly. Was asking for just a bit of luck so hard? Wilson kept talking, babbling about what he wanted to do with the gold or whatever. Maxwell couldn’t concentrate in anything besides eating, flashes of his dream coming back to him. Soon, he couldn’t even eat anymore, putting the rest of his food in a fridge.

“Are you ready to go? I already got the pickaxes,” the scientist said, offering a pickax, with his big and mainly hands.

“Sure, just lead the way.” Maxwell picked the pickax, avoiding Wilson’s hand as best as possible. Still their fingers brushed against each other. Hot flesh against his fingers, and he never wished so badly to kiss someone. Still, he walked, quietly following the scientist.

They walked in silence, until they were alone among rocks. “Is everything alright? You are so quiet today.” Wilson smiled, always so friendly, always so ready to give people another chance.

“God, you have no respect for yourself, do you?” Maxwell retorted, too much venom on his voice. 

“Excuse me?” Wilson said, astonished.

“You heard me,” the former king started, channeling his emotions to anger. Anger was easier to deal with. “Have some self-respect and stop begging for my attention.”

“I’m sorry for wanting to be civil to you,” the scientist replied, clearly surprised with how the conversation was turning.

“After everything I did, I thought it was clear enough I don’t want to have anything to do with you,” Maxwell spat, all bite. “Let alone your damn neediness. Have a drop of self-respect and leave me alone.”

The scientist was mad, more than any time else. He gave Maxwell so many chances, and there he was, spitting them all back to his face. The tall man was sure there would be no going back from his harsh words. It was for the better, it would mean it would be easier to avoid the scientist.

Yet, Wilson had his own ideas, and punched Maxwell on the face, making him fall on his ass. First, the former king felt the growing pain on his right eye. Then the growing discomfort on his pants, as images of his dream flashed on his memory. His face heated up, glowing red.

Wilson looked properly mortified as soon as he punched Maxwell. And then properly confused at Maxwell’s blushing face. The king felt his heart drop when suddenly Wilson’s eyes moved to the apparent erection on his pants.

“Wha-” the scientist started, more confused than anything else. 

Maxwell raised quickly, turning away from Wilson. “I have too much to do,” he said the first thing that came to his head and he run away. Mortified.

\--------------------------------------------

Wilson let Maxwell leave. He had no clue on how to feel. Was Maxwell interested in him? But then why say all those hurtful things? Even then, Wilson had punched him, a boner was a strange reaction. Wilson tried to lose himself in his work, but his mind kept wandering back to Maxwell. Since when he felt like that? Wilson didn’t think of himself as specially handsome or anything, he never thought a man would be attracted to him. Maxwell, of all people!

At dinner, Wilson kept hoping to see Maxwell, to talk to him, to get some answer. Yet he didn’t appear. Maxwell was already so thin to skip a meal. Would it be too awkward for Wilson to bring him some food? Of course it would. Would anything not be awkward?

He went to sleep early. Maybe Maxwell would appear if he wasn’t around. The next day things would feel better, they could pretend nothing happened, right? He could do it, no problem. Lying down on his tent, Wilson’s mind refused to think of anything except Maxwell.

Wilson was used to think about men like that. Homosexuality wasn’t new to him. Thinking about Maxwell like that wasn’t new either. When Maxwell was only a voice in a radio, Wilson had thought plenty of him, in all ways possible. However, when he was betrayed, sealed in this world, he had stopped thinking about Maxwell in such way.

He couldn’t sleep with so much on his mind. One thing usually would make him sleep quickly. So Wilson freed his soft dick, lightly touching it. His mind kept going to Maxwell, in the ground, face bright red and erection in full view. It didn’t took long for Wilson to feel himself rock hard. He imagined Maxwell, still embarrassed, trailing kisses on his chest. He imagined Maxwell biting his nipple, and Wilson pinched his nipple to simulate that.

Wilson moaned, lightly, muffled. He imagined Maxwell taking Wilson’s dick on his mouth, still embarrassed over his desire. It didn’t take Wilson long to come. He needed to talk to Maxwell.

Tomorrow. When he wasn’t so sleepy.

\--------------------------------------------

Maxwell could barely sleep. He had managed to avoid Wilson for the rest of the day. He could do it other times, he was sure of it. He just needed to oversleep, wait until Wilson was working, and just then leave his tent. And just return to the camp once the scientist was asleep. Maxwell could do that. The perfect plan.

The only downside of the plan was that he wouldn’t be able to see Wilson again. See his strong arms, the defined muscles from all the work he did, the dumb beard he liked to grow from time to time. He looked way better without a beard, but there was some charm to his scruffy beard. He would miss it all, but it was better than the alternative: facing Wilson.

“You shouldn’t skip meals,” Wilson said, making Maxwell’s heart skip a few beats.

“What are you doing here?” Maxwell said with as much anger he could muster. Anger was so much better than all the complicated feelings he kept having. “I thought I made myself clear yesterday.”

“Yeah, you did.” Wilson blushed, leaving the food at Maxwell’s feet. Not what Maxwell meant. “We should talk.”

“I don’t want to talk,” Maxwell retorted, pushing the food away from both of them.

“Fine, we don’t need to talk.” Wilson sighed, approaching the former king.

“Wha-what are you doing?” Maxwell gulped, as the scientist closed the distance between them. Wilson mouth covered Maxwell’s. It was quick, soft, and left Maxwell wanting more. So much more.

“Is that alright?” Wilson asked, still so close to the tall man.

“Yes,” he said breathless. It took him a second to decide what to do, and Maxwell pulled Wilson closer, kissing him back.

This kiss was deeper, their tongues in an intricate dance, that both hoped won’t stop any time soon. Wilson lifted slightly Maxwell’s shirt, his hands wandering around the former king’s flat belly, every touch sending shivers down his spine.

As soon as their mouths separated, Wilson kissed Maxwell’s neck. He slowly descended his kisses, undoing each of the former king’s buttons and he went down. One of the scientist’s hands went to Maxwell’s nipple, receiving as reply a series of moans. Wilson trailed down his hand, groping the erection under the former king’s pants.

“Wa-wait, stop,” Maxwell managed, face flushed. And for a moment he hoped Wilson won’t stop, that he would force himself just like in his dream.

“What’s the matter?” the scientist asked, letting go of Maxwell’s clear erection. A bit disappointing, but not surprising. Wilson was a gentleman, after all. “Should I slow down?”

“No,” Maxwell managed, face so hot and red. So much shame. “I want you to continue, to continue even if I tell you to stop.”

“How will I know if you actually want to stop?” The scientist was all concern, and no judgment. Maxwell felt thankful for that.

“We, uh, we can chose a word for that? One we won’t be using during sex?” Maxwell offered, still so flushed. Still waiting for Wilson to judge him.

The scientist hesitated, as if deep in thought. “Call me Edgar, if you want me to stop,” he declared.

Maxwell didn’t reply, only pulling Wilson towards him, in a deep, hungry kiss. The scientist’s hand went back to the tall man’s hard penis, yanking it out of his pants. Wilson broke their kiss, moving his mouth quickly to the throbbing dick on his hands. “Aah, we shouldn’t-” Maxwell tried, being silenced by his own pleasure. He muffled his moans, as the scientist bobbed his head up and down the king’s length.

Suddenly, Wilson left the erect cock, and forced Maxwell to lie on his back. The scientist coated one of his finger on saliva, and Maxwell wished he was the one licking those slender, delicious fingers. “Sorry, I have nothing else to use as lube,” Wilson whispered, finger rimming the tall man’s asshole. “Let me know if it’s too much.”

Without waiting for an answer, he slipped his finger inside Maxwell, carefully thrusting. “Stop, aah, s-stop,” the former king said, as he thrust back. “Rougher,” he still demanded.

“Bossy,” Wilson said with a playful smile. Yet, he still picked up the pace, inserting another finger inside the tall man. Soon two fingers became three, rough, ruthless fingers. “I’m putting it in,” he warned. The fingers left the tight asshole, and slowly were replaced for Wilson’s penis. It was bigger than Maxwell anticipated, and the slight pain of the tightness was welcome.

“Stop, please, I can’t- aah,” the former king moaned. Wilson started thrusting, slowly, but soon enough picking up his pace. “Please, you’re too big, I can’t take it anymore...”

Wilson slowed down, a hint of worry painting his face. “Say my name.” Maxwell looked confused, and the scientist decided to elaborate. “What is my name? Wilson or Edgar?”

“Ah, Wilson.” Maxwell understood. Quickly Wilson regained speed, fast and rough, hitting all the correct spots, turning the tall man in a mess. “Slap me, please. Wilson, slap me,” he begged, no more shame left.

He hesitated. Of course he would. Surprisingly, he didn’t complain. One hand dug at Maxwell’s side, and the other gave a small, timid slap at the former king’s face. “Like that?”

“Harder,” he groaned. Wilson tried again, a juice slap on his right cheek. Then two others, more mild, but still enough. Maxwell came, all over his stomach Wilson didn’t slow down a bit. Thrusting harder and harder until he could release all his come inside the tall man.

The short man exited Maxwell, lying down by his side. “Did you enjoy that?” Wilson’s voice was almost a whisper. Faces so close.

“Yeah, it was nice,” Maxwell whispered back. A small blush spreading through his face. He wanted to add how much he wanted to do it again, to make this a recurrent event.

“I, I really like you,” Wilson started, his hand holding Maxwell’s. “I don’t want for this to be only sex.”

“That’s nice,” the tall man agreed, allowing himself a smile. “Will you be my boyfriend?”

“Yes.” They sealed it with a kiss. They could get used to that.


End file.
